(THEME)
TR: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets and one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions...Guy Noir, Private Eye.
(PIANO UNDER)
GK: It was one of those humid summer days when you are more aware of your underwear than you want to be and you wish you could reach down and loosen it up so you glance around to see if anyone's looking and it gives you a furtive appearance and suddenly everybody's got their eye on you. I was in Chicago. I'd gotten a call from Monsignor Flaherty at St. Wladislaw's.
TR (IRISH): Ah, Mr. Noir, so good to see you.
GK: Good to see you, Monsignor.
TR (IRISH): And how are you then?
GK: Uh, it's been years since my last confession, Father. How much do you want to know?
TR (IRISH): Oh, never mind that. We've all got our problems, don't we. And Chicago, too. Ah, we used to be a rough town of immigrants. The city of the big shoulders. But no more. Now we're the city of the slender waistline and the long sensitive fingers. Two thousand churches --St. Patrick's, Our Lady of Lourdes, St. Mary of the Angels, St. Hyacinth, St. Deficits -- the Polish built this beautiful church, St. Wladislaws. And then people moved out into the suburbs. And now these beautiful churches are(WEEPING) --O have mercy -- the faith of our fathers--
GK: I read an article about this today. Churches being turned into condominiums...
TR (IRISH): And worse. Much worse. (BRIDGE)
GK: And we got into his old black Buick and drove around Chicago (TRAFFIC) and he showed me what had been churches -- now they were performing arts centers (CELLO) or they were theaters -- (
FN: STELLA!!!!) or they were restaurants (
FN: Our special today is a lightly-breaded trout broiled over mesquite and lightly drizzled with rainwater and served on a bed of gravel from a creekbed high in the Sierras.) and some were basketball courts (FEET SQUEAKING ON HARDWOOD, SHOUTS) and some were target ranges (RIFLE FIRE) and one church had become a dog kennel (YIPPING) and one was a video arcade (ELECTRONIC SFX) and then Monsignor took me back to St. Wladislaws.
TR: And this is what will become of my beautiful church-- look at the blueprints.
GK: Condominiums, huh?
TR: They'll divide it up into sixteen apartments. Or lofts. And look what they're calling it.
GK: Canterbury Fields.
TR: Canterbury!!!!! A Polish church built with the blood and sweat of Polish people and they give it an English name -- and the very seat of the Anglican heresy. You've got to stop it, Mr. Noir.
GK: I'm not sure I can.
TR: Couldn't they have the daycency to give it a Polish name--
GK: The what?
TR: The daycency--
GK: Oh. Okay.
TR: A good Polish name like Ladislaus or Stanislas. Czeslas. Hedwig. Otto. Kazimierz.
GK: Kazimierz Fields.
TR: Please. Here is the developer's address. Go talk to her. (BRIDGE)
GK: Her name was Patricia Mellifluous Smith and she was on LSD. Lake Shore Drive. She lived on the top floor and when I saw her in a dress that was almost the size of a table napkin, I had to take a deep breath. .
SS: Hi. Come in, Mr. Noir.
GK: Thank you. Thanks for letting me come and see you. I had no idea it would be such a pleasure.
SS: Well, it costs nothing to look, as we say.
GK: You have a very kind face.
SS: Thank you. Most men doing get up that high. (STING)
GK: She was tall with dark hair and she wore that dress like she'd been poured into it and forgot to say stop. She smelled the way Taj Mahal looks in the moonlight. Must be a burden to be as beautiful as you are, Miss Smith. Men must be bothering you all the time.
SS: Sometimes I like to be bothered. Especially if I'm also bewitched. (BRIDGE)
GK: She led me past a giant fish tank (SFX BUBBLER) in which a piranha was going around and eating minnows. (SFX) A cat sat and watched. (CAT) And a Rottweiler watched the cat. (DOG LOW GROWL) The whole food chain, right there. We walked out on a terrace that overlooked Lake Michigan and (DISTANT BOAT HORN) and I sat down on a velvet chaise longue as she poured the wine.
SS: It's a 1983 Montepulciano. From the year I was born.
It's like me, a beautiful nose, complex, very rich, and an excellent texture, which maybe we can get to later.
GK: So you're a real-estate developer? And you're buying up old churches and turning them into condominiums?
SS: I am rescuing the Catholic Church from the financial burden of historic preservation, Mr. Noir. Enormous stone edifices with a few old ladies in the pews on Sunday and the place is is desperate need of a new roof and tuckpointing and the cost would come to about a million dollars per old lady -- so I step in. And I turn beautiful buildings into magnificent apartments where beautiful people can lead the life they dream of. Can I trust you, Mr. Noir?
GK: Sure.
SS: My true love is not real estate, or money. It's Joyce.
GK: Well, that's fine. I mean, love is love. Beautiful.
SS: No, not that -- my true love is James Joyce. I once played Molly Bloom in a production of --Ulysses-- and it changed my life. It opened me up to love.
GK: Wait a minute. I know you. Your name isn't Smith. You're the woman who went to Berkeley and wrote her doctorate on James Joyce while working out on her Stairmaster and your name isn't Patricia Smith. It's Vivian Ventura. Now I remember.
SS: Where did you hear all of that?
GK: On YouTube, of course.
SS: Oh my gosh, no.
GK: Yes. That clip of you on YouTube in which you
rode your bike down a steep ramp with a yellow Labrador dressed as James Joyce on your shoulders as you were doing Molly Bloom's soliloquy from Ulysses and you flew through the air into the world's largest smoothie. I think I can find it-- here, let me see your computer.
SS: Please. Don't. --
GK: Here it is, here. (
SS: Yes, she said, yes, oh yes, oh yes, DESCENDING WOMAN'S VOICE SINGING HIGH NOTE, AND DOG HOWLING IN HARMONY, DOWN SLIDE AND FLYING AND THEN SPLORT INTO SMOOTHIE)
Want to see it again?
SS: No.
GK: Why not?
SS: That was then and this is now, Mr. Noir. I'm a different person.
GK: You changed your name, yes--
SS: I was young. I was naive. Back then, I believed that the world is a place of beauty and that love conquers all.
GK: And now?
SS: And now I believe that real estate is going to recover and start going up again.
GK: Maybe you're right. But I think that your bankers would be very interested in a video of a woman with your debt load riding a bike down a ramp into a smoothie.
SS: Is this blackmail, Mr. Noir?
GK: Call it what you like. Maybe it's a proposal.
SS: A proposal of what?
GK: You're looking at a heavyset guy in a blue suit and fedora who maybe looks a little shopworn to you but nonetheless he knows his way around a dance floor and is ready to make a lifelong commitment maybe as soon as Tuesday or Wednesday--
SS: Mr. Noir-- The only thing we have in common is the fact we're bipeds.
GK: You can't judge a book by its cover. Or by its index.
SS: Mr. Noir, I want children. Put your head down here, you can hear my biological clock ticking. And you're too old. Your eyesight is poor. You didn't even notice my blouse.
GK: Oh. It's see-through, isn't it.
SS: Yes.
GK: Don't turn up your nose at maturity. You want to date some guy in his thirties wearing his baseball cap backwards? Some kid who doesn't even know who James Joyce is?
(TR JJOYCE: That's telling her, boyo. Kneel down, will you. Better to fail boldly in the full glory of some passion, than to fade away.)
SS: Mr. Noir, you're very sweet, but I'm afraid time is up.
(TR JJOYCE: Well would you listen to her? Come forth Lazarus! You come fifth and you lose the job.)
GK: Okay, then time is up. But don't call it Canterbury Fields.
SS: No?
GK: Call it a good Polish name. James Joyce's brother's name was Stanislaus. How about Stanislaus Place?
SS: Okay. It's a deal.
GK: Thank you. Nice wine, by the way. And you're right, it is complex. And the nose is magnificent. (BRIDGE) A small victory, but those are the best kind. The big ones, you don't live long enough to see. I had a few hours so I walked around Chicago. (TRAFFIC) Always a rewarding experience. The bus goes by (SFX) and overhead the El heading for the Loop (TRAIN) and high in the sky a plane coming into O'Hare (SFX) and down here kids are playing in the fountain (SFX) and a guy is selling sandwiches off a cart with an umbrella.
FN: HEY HOW ABOUT A SANDWICH? YOU LOOK HUNGRY. HOW ABOUT IT? GOT YOUR SMOKED BUTT SANDWICH HERE.
GK: You got what?
FN: GOT YOUR SMOKED PORK BUTT.
GK: Gimme one of those.
FN: On Kaiser or rye?
GK: Gimme a Kaiser.
FN: Out of Kaiser.
GK: How about rye?
FN: Got that. Mayo or mustard?
GK: Both.
FN: (TWO SQUORTS) How about a beer with that?
GK: Why not? (POP OPEN CAN, POUR)
FN: There you go. Pork butt and a beer. Welcome to Chicago.. (THEME)
TR: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets but one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions. Guy Noir, Private Eye.